


Fine

by likeasouffle



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bad Sex, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Misgendering, Other, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22423618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeasouffle/pseuds/likeasouffle
Summary: Crowley’s gender had changed many times throughout history, and it generally wasn’t a big deal. She’d change her hair and clothing and switch out her genitals, just a couple of quick miracles. But this time her gender had had the audacity to flip right at the moment her relationship with Aziraphale was finally becoming physical, and suddenly she found herself considering his feelings about it, wondering how he’d react.Aziraphale wanted her handsome, he’d said so himself. He wanted her short-haired and masculine. He was a self-identified pansy with a history of late-night dancing with large groups of men. Crowley decided to stay as she was.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 113
Kudos: 609





	Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Be aware that there is a brief mention of the idea of sexual assault. No one in this story has actually been sexually assaulted though. There is also gender dysphoria, misgendering, and homophobic language (of the same type that was used in the show).
> 
> Thank you to [jezunya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezunya/pseuds/Jezunya) and [multicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/multicorn/pseuds/multicorn) for beta reading and cheerleading! I appreciate it so much!

Crowley was not fine. In fact lately, she’d been downright anxious. It was starting to become a problem.

Her gender had changed many times throughout history, and it generally wasn’t a big deal. She’d change her hair and clothing and switch out her genitals, just a couple of quick miracles. She wouldn’t even worry about it or overthink it before letting her acquaintances and colleagues know there’d be different pronouns for the foreseeable future.

But this time was different. This time her gender had had the audacity to flip right at the moment her relationship with Aziraphale was finally becoming physical, and suddenly she found herself considering his feelings about it, wondering how he’d react. 

It would probably be fine. She’d tell him, and he wouldn’t mind, just as he’d never minded before, and they’d go back to necking on the couch in the back of the bookshop. There was no need to worry. 

Crowley had been absolutely delighting in all the kissing, cuddling, and hand holding lately, and it seemed like they were just on the precipice of taking things further. She’d been thinking about getting Aziraphale’s shirt off later that day and telling him then. But Tracy had invited them over for a house-warming lunch with her and Shadwell, along with Anathema and Newt. Aziraphale had graciously accepted on behalf of both of them, because of _course_ he had, so Crowley resigned herself to an afternoon of polite socializing. Two hours at a minimum, probably. Further experiments in necking and fondling, and any gender-related confessions, would just have to wait. 

* * *

“Oh, Mr. Aziraphale, I’m so happy you could make it!” Tracy kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the first ones, the others’ll be along shortly. Tea?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“And what about you, Mr. Crowley? Are you a tea drinker?”

Crowley shuffled through the entryway to the kitchen and mumbled, head down, “It’s just Crowley.”

“Just Crowley, then. I’m making chamomile. Mr. Shadwell will take your coats, won’t you, there’s a love.”

Aziraphale pressed his hand to Crowley’s back briefly, and seemed to search her face, before turning back to Tracy. “He’ll take a cup. Thank you so much for inviting us. It’s a beautiful home.”

“Isn’t it something? We had such a time finding it, what with our budget and the market being what it is, but all good things to those who wait. Isn’t that right, my love?”

“Had nary a choice, did we?” Shadwell took their coats and continued grumbling as he left the room. “Highway robbery, thae other ones. Asking every last penny of a good woman’s savings…”

“He’s such a worrier, poor thing.”

When Anathema and Newt arrived, there were more exclamations about the house, and tea, and coats. Tracy showed everyone around. Shadwell eyed Anathema suspiciously, but greeted Newt as an old comrade-in-arms. “Keeping vigilant, laddie? Working hard?”

“Well, I do what I can, Sergeant Shadwell.”

“Aye.”

“Nice to see you again, Madame Tracy. And you, Mr., er, Aziraphale. Mr. Crowley.”

“It’s just Crowley,” Crowley said.

“So what about the two of you?” Tracy asked Aziraphale. “Moved in together yet?”

“Oh, well—” Aziraphale looked at Crowley, then back down at his teacup. “We’ve each got our own spaces. One tends to collect quite a lot of clutter when one is immortal. But we have been spending a lot more time together.”

“I’ll bet you have.” Tracy leaned her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. 

* * *

Aziraphale brimmed over with happiness at being able to recount stories of their relationship to people who hadn’t been there but who were aware they weren’t human. No hiding the fact of their immortality, no fictionalizing events to fit them into a human timescale. He positively glowed with excitement.

“And when I turned around, guess what he had in his hand.”

“What?” 

“The books! He had saved _all_ my books.”

Tracy put her hand over her heart. “That’s so romantic!”

“Oh, I can’t even tell you.” Aziraphale leaned forward. “And you should have seen him. He looked so _handsome_. He had on such a sharp suit that night.”

* * *

“The first time I ever asked him out to lunch… That was in Rome, wasn’t it? It would have been about two thousand years ago, now.”

“That was the first time you ever saw me with short hair.”

“So it was! And you had those lovely little curls on your forehead. You looked very broad-shouldered with that cape over your toga.”

Crowley frowned deeply.

“We had oysters. Crowley didn’t like them so I got to eat them all,” Aziraphale laughed.

“Oh, you’ve got to have foods you don’t agree on,” Tracy said. “Taking the other one’s share is part of the fun. My Mr. Shadwell gives me all his broccoli off his plate every time, isn’t that right, lovely?”

Shadwell grimaced.

Newt cleared his throat and spoke up. “I don’t like avocados. And Anathema doesn’t like marmite.”

Crowley made a face. “Must be true love.” Aziraphale elbowed her in the side, and she picked up her teacup to hide her smirk.

* * *

“It’s a little hard to believe,” Anathema was saying, “that there are three couples in this room and none of us met online.”

“You know I can’t actually…” Newt frowned. “That’s not something I can do.”

“Yes, but even aside from that. It just seems unlikely.”

“It can’t be _that_ unlikely.” Newt turned to Aziraphale. “How did people meet each other in the olden days?”

“Oh, all sorts of ways. You’d be introduced by friends, or you’d go to a matchmaker, or your parents would arrange for you to be married…”

“Oh, I don’t think I could have handled that,” Tracy said. “Not being able to choose for myself? Sounds horrid.”

“Well, if you hated the person your parents chose for you,” Aziraphale said, “you’d tell them, and they’d choose someone else. It wasn’t set in stone. And anyway, a lot of people find it helpful to have their family’s help finding suitors, arranging meetings, and all of that.”

“Hm,” Anathema said, “I know she was just reporting things that were going to happen regardless, but in a way, Newt and I were sort of set up by Agnes.”

Newt said, “Honestly, I don’t know whether I would have had the courage to ask you out or anything, if it hadn’t been prophesied that we’d be together.”

Anathema gave him a small smile. “I’m glad it was though.” A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “But then, how did it work for gay people? Surely two men wouldn’t be set up by their parents?”

“Oh, there were ways. Of course two men wouldn’t be betrothed to be married, but in some places and time periods, it was fine to be open about having a relationship. But even when it isn’t, people find ways of letting each other know whom they can trust and where they can go that’s safe. Just as an example, in the late eighteen hundreds, I myself was a member of an exclusive club for wealthy gentlemen to dance together and socialize. Quite a few couples met there, actually.”

“Crowley, were you there too?” Anathema asked.

“Nah. Late eighteen hundreds? Don’t think we were speaking then.”

“Yes, I believe we’d had an argument a few decades earlier,” Aziraphale said. “But we sorted it out in the end.”

“Funny to think of an angel being gay,” Newt mused. “I mean—! Not that— It’s only, I don’t get the impression there were a lot of gay angels in the Bible or anything.”

“There weren’t a lot of angels with any sexuality at all in the Bible,” Aziraphale said. “Most of the angels I’m acquainted with find human matters rather beneath them. Sex, food, sleep, wine, using the toilet… A lot of angels find it all a bit frivolous, I think.”

Anathema said, “Not you, though.”

“No, not me.”

Tracy laughed. “You should have been there when he was possessing me, and _this_ one—” she indicated Shadwell, “called him a Southern pansy, and what do you think he said? ‘Not just _a_ Southern pansy. _THE_ Southern pansy!’” At this she cackled uproariously and slapped the table.

Crowley frowned into her tea.

* * *

When they finally got back to the bookshop, Aziraphale was the one to take matters in hand. He kissed Crowley and walked her backwards until he could press her against the wall, leaning his whole body against hers. Now this was more like it. Crowley panted against Aziraphale’s lips, and gripped the back of his coat in her fists. She’d been horny for weeks imagining his thigh between her legs, his cock in her hand, his tongue on her clit — once she has one. One day soon. She moaned out loud as his hands fluttered about. He touched her back, her arse, her waist. 

“Crowley…” She felt Aziraphale’s kisses across her jaw and down her neck. “May I—” His breath was warm on her skin as he laughed softly. “I feel I’m being unbearably forward—”

“You’re not.” She felt the buttons of her shirt being fumbled open.

“All the reminiscing this afternoon... Crowley, I’ve wanted you for such a long time—” More kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. “I want so much to—”

“Tell me.”

“I want to pleasure you with my mouth.”

“ _Fuck_.” Crowley jerked her hips against him. 

Aziraphale apparently took that as an invitation, and stumbled to his knees before her, his hands on her waist. Crowley had only a moment to consider whether she should quickly switch her cock for a clit and feel Aziraphale’s mouth on it like she so desperately wanted. But Aziraphale didn’t want that, he’d said it himself. He wanted her handsome. He wanted her short-haired and masculine. He was a self-identified pansy with a history of late-night dancing with large groups of men. Aziraphale was already unzipping her jeans and sliding them down her hips. She stayed as she was. 

Aziraphale took her cock into his mouth and moaned like it was one of his fancy gourmet desserts. He patted her thighs and her abdomen like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, and he drooled so much she could hear his slurping. Crowley shut her eyes and tried to bring back the lust from just a moment before. The fantasy of Aziraphale licking her clit and sticking his fingers inside her just wouldn’t solidify. All she could feel was his lips wrapped around her cock, and there was no ignoring it. To her horror, she started to soften in his mouth. She felt him stop his movements and release her, and all she could hear was his panting. 

She opened her eyes. He was looking up at her, wiping his chin. “Have I… Was I doing it wrong?”

“No, no, fuck, it’s not anything you— Listen. It’s not you. My body’s not cooperating. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m fucking— I’m furious at myself, but I’m sure. You’re perfect. Come here. Get up here.” She pulled at Aziraphale’s clothes as he stood and she kissed him soundly. She kept kissing him as she tugged her jeans back up and zipped them closed. “Let me do something for you. Let me make you come.” 

He moaned against her lips. “Are you sure?”

“Bloody positive.” She unzipped his trousers, thinking about touching him everywhere. She wrapped her hand around his cock and started stroking. Next time, she’d get his shirt off and kiss his chest, his belly, the creases at his hips. She was already getting turned on again just thinking about it. She struggled to keep hold of him as he clumsily thrust back and forth, moaning against her mouth. 

All at once, after no time at all, he gripped her shoulders tightly, threw his head back, and tensed all over, shaking. “Oh! Oh!” His cock pulsed in her hand, and she stroked him through it as his come shot onto her shirt, then spurted more weakly over her hand. His lips were very red. 

He laughed as he opened his eyes, blushing, and kissed her cheek. “Oh, my dear. That was wonderful.”

Crowley turned her head to kiss his lips and couldn’t keep from smiling. “Good.” She was enjoying holding onto his softening cock more than she would have expected. 

“What would you like?” Aziraphale asked.

“Nothing. Just this.” She kissed him again.

He backed his face away from hers and frowned. “Are you certain? I don’t want to be selfish…”

“You’re not. I’m just—” She shrugged one shoulder and released his cock. “Happy to have done that for you.” She miracled them both clean. “Another time, alright?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded. “Alright.”

* * *

“Before we get to the tailor and I have my measurements taken,” Aziraphale said, sitting in the Bentley’s passenger seat, “there’s something I’ve got to decide.”

Crowley looked over, then back at the road. She sped through an intersection and swerved around a passing lorry.

“I’ve been wondering— I’ve been wondering whether it would be a good idea to change my body. A bit.”

Crowley looked back at him. Aziraphale was looking down at his hands, which he was wringing. “Your body? Change it how?”

“I’ve been wondering whether I should be… thinner? Or younger-looking, perhaps. Well, probably not that. What with having so many people in the community who recognize me. They’d find it odd. So just thinner then.”

“Aziraphale.” Crowley stared straight ahead. “We’re finally— We’ve only just— And you want to change your body _now_? Before I’ve even had a chance to—?” She ground her teeth.

“So, you don’t want me to?”

Crowley suddenly realized how hypocritical she was being. Here she was, wanting nothing more than to change her own body and be accepted regardless, and yet she wanted to dictate what Aziraphale could do with his. What a prick she was being. She took a deep breath. “Angel, it’s your body, you can do what you like with it. Nobody, not me or anybody, can tell you otherwise. But if you’re asking for my opinion, it, I, ngk, f—” She exhaled deeply. “I want you just as you are.”

Aziraphale positively lit up. “Really?” He beamed at Crowley. “Oh, that’s just what I was hoping you would say.” He reached over and put his hand on Crowley’s thigh, and gave a little squeeze. He kept smiling as he looked out the window and wiggled his shoulders. “I want you just as you are, too.”

Crowley clenched her jaw and miraculously avoided running into a lamppost. Which would have been its own fault for getting in the way. Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice.

* * *

Crowley looked at the racks of clothes while she waited for Aziraphale to finish trying things on, feeling pretty bloody excited to see how he’d look. It was a miracle he’d agreed to buy new clothes in the first place. Well, not a _literal_ miracle. Crowley hadn’t done anything to make it happen apart from argue. But in any case, she was very much looking forward to seeing the result.

The shop had women’s clothing too, and there was a rack of black dresses with low necklines, long sleeves, and flirty slits up the sides. The material looked like it had a good drape, and she was dying to know how far up the slits went. Those dresses were just the kind of thing she’d want to wear. If she was going to wear a dress at all.

She looked around and didn’t see Aziraphale. Still in the fitting room, then. She stepped over to the rack and followed the slit of one of the dresses up with her hand, up past where the knees would be, almost to the top of the thigh. Higher than she’d expected. Sexy.

“Are you getting something too?”

Crowley jumped and tore her hand away as if she’d been burned. “What? No. Why would I— Just waiting for you. I don’t need anything.” Her heart hammered in her chest.

Aziraphale stood calmly with his hands clasped in front of him and watched her face. He tilted his head curiously. “Are you sure? We’re not in any hurry.”

“I wasn’t— I was just wasting time. Waiting for you.”

“Hm.” Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Alright. Well, I’ve decided on my items, so I’m just going to go and pay.”

Crowley nodded frantically. “Sure.” Her shoulders crumpled forward and she took deep, gulping breaths as Aziraphale walked away.

* * *

After she took off her sunglasses and threw them onto a side table, Crowley stood and watched Aziraphale’s fingers as he locked the door of the bookshop. His new waistcoat would take longer to alter, and he hadn’t yet selected a coat, but he already had his new shirt and trousers. They had been finished in only a couple of hours while he and Crowley were out having a long lunch, and they fit extremely well. He was wearing them now, and the shape of his body was visible in a way Crowley wasn’t used to. She wanted to touch him.

He turned to face her. “Well. What would you like to do now?”

Crowley stepped toward him and put her hands on his face. “Please kiss me.”

She watched his eyes fall closed just before they both leaned in at the same time. Fuck, she loved kissing. She could hear herself breathing loudly through her nose and she couldn’t seem to stop.

Aziraphale broke off, stroking her back and holding her close, and said, “Crowley, do you know how happy I am to finally be with you?”

Crowley leaned her forehead against his and smiled, panting. “I might have some idea.”

“I can’t believe I get to kiss you. You are the most handsome man I’ve—”

“Don’t.” She wrapped her arms around Aziraphale, clung to his back, and closed her eyes. “Please don’t say that.”

There was a moment when nothing happened and she regretted saying anything before Aziraphale said, “Sorry.” He kissed her gently and stroked her back.

She struggled to think of a way to turn the mood back around. She kissed his cheek and said, “I like your new clothes.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I can tell.” He kissed her neck, and reached down to grope her through her jeans. 

She let it happen and tried to focus on the kissing as Aziraphale lowered her zipper to stroke her cock, skin to skin. He moaned and panted, and it was delicious how turned on he was. Crowley would have done anything to avoid ruining the moment, but every touch reminded her that her body wasn’t how she wanted it to be, and Aziraphale didn’t see her the way she wanted him to. Rather than turning her on, his grip on her cock just felt rough and hard, like he was rubbing her arm or her knee as hard as he could.

“I can’t.” Crowley touched Aziraphale’s hand to still it. “I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

Aziraphale backed away. He closed and opened his fists before clasping his hands together. “I’m sorry.”

Crowley shook her head. “No, I—” She felt cold with the sudden loss of his body against hers, his lips on her neck. “That’s not what I—”

She watched Aziraphale’s throat work as he swallowed. “I keep hurting you.”

Crowley closed her eyes. “Can we—” She swiped a hand across her face. “Can we go to bed together? And not have sex?”

“Of course. Whatever you like.”

* * *

Once they were in the bedroom in the flat above the bookshop, Aziraphale hovered in the doorway. “I don’t want to get creases in my new clothes.”

“So take them off.” Crowley sat on the edge of the bed to take her shoes off. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.”

Crowley watched Aziraphale unbutton his shirt, take it off, and carefully hang it up. He left on a white undershirt. Then he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zipper, his eyes on Crowley the entire time. He took off the trousers, and as he turned to hang them up, Crowley couldn’t stop looking at his legs. She wanted to kiss his thighs, and grope him through his briefs. 

Aziraphale got into bed and lay on his back. He was blushing. Crowley got in beside him, still in her shirt and jeans. She hesitated for a moment, then slid over to lie pressed against his side, with her head on his arm.

Crowley stroked her hand over Aziraphale’s belly. It was soft. She sighed deeply and kissed his shoulder. “Could stay just like this for days. Weeks.” She pulled his undershirt up to stroke his skin. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale turned his head to look at her. “We don’t have to— You don’t have to tell me any details, but…” He bit his lip. “Is there something, in your past— Have you had a bad experience, with sex? Some… trauma, or…?”

“ _No_ , no, fuck no. It’s nothing like that.” She got up on her elbow and brought her hand to his face. “That’s not why—” She kissed him. “I’m— dealing with something. I’m figuring it out. It won’t be forever. But it’s not that, I promise.”

Aziraphale exhaled deeply. “Oh, thank goodness.”

Crowley kissed him again. He looked delicious, with his bare arms, his collarbones, the slight flush on his face. One more kiss, a longer one, and she closed her eyes and enjoyed it. 

After everything, Crowley was still horny, and pressed against him like she was, it was hard to think about anything else. She started rocking her hips against him and moaned into his mouth. She got a leg over him, then climbed on top of him so she could thrust against him harder.

Aziraphale broke away from her mouth. “Crowley. You said you didn’t want to have sex.”

“I know, I just—” She kept up her movements and panted. “Just this. I want you so much. Please just let me—”

Aziraphale nodded. “Where can I touch you?”

Crowley ground down against his hip, eyes closed, and let out a high-pitched whine. “Anywhere.” 

“ _Crowley_.”

She struggled to focus on the words. Everything felt good. “Unh. My back. My hair.” She dropped her head down to kiss his neck. “Anywhere above the waist.”

Aziraphale nodded. “And what can I say to you?” Aziraphale stroked her back with one hand and petted her hair with the other as she humped urgently against him. He rocked his hips up against her and groaned soft little noises of pleasure with every thrust. “Crowley? What can I say that will make you feel good?”

“Tell me you want me.” She sped up her movements, grunting and thrusting, sweating in her jeans and not caring. “You can call me—” She was so close. Just a little more... “Beautiful—”

“I want you. I want you so much, my dear.” Aziraphale kissed her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

Crowley came, gasping, legs spread wide and body straining against Aziraphale’s. Her breath left her in a quick “Huh!” She gasped as she kept rocking through it. “Mmmm…” Aziraphale followed her, gripping her shirt and her hair, moaning a long, low moan wetly against her jaw. 

After he had regained his breath, he relaxed his hold on her and stroked her back. “So beautiful.”

Crowley felt her cheeks and her ears heat up. She buried her face against Aziraphale’s neck, and remained on top of him, lying there heavily like a sunning snake. The glob of wet in her jeans would need to be dealt with. But not just yet.

“Thank you, my dear.”

“Mm?”

“I wanted so much to give you pleasure. Whatever it is you’re dealing with, I’m so glad you found a way to make that happen.”

“Mm.” Crowley raised herself up on her elbows. “Me too.” She kissed Aziraphale, then looked down at his open, smiling face. “Thanks for, uh…” 

He beamed at her, with a smile that reached his eyes and reddened his cheeks.

“You know. Thanks.”

* * *

Aziraphale and Crowley were looking at their menus at a cheap and cheerful diner, not too far from the bookshop. The waiter had a crisp white button-up shirt, a buzzcut, and a pin that said “They/Them.” When they came to take drink orders, Crowley said, “Coffee, dark roast.”

Aziraphale didn’t look up from his menu. “I haven’t decided, I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright, I’ll come back.”

After the waiter left, Aziraphale said, “I’ve heard they do a wonderful chili con carne, but the meat is made out of soy instead of beef. Can you imagine? I’d like to see how it compares. There are other things on the menu that look interesting as well...”

Crowley didn’t really want anything, so she selected a dessert she could eventually slide across to Aziraphale. 

She had her hair long, and she was worried about it. She kept telling herself it wasn’t a big deal. She’d had long hair as a man before, plenty of times. Fairly recently, even. Not a big deal.

The red nail polish though. That was new. 

When Aziraphale had first seen her that morning, he hadn’t reacted at all. He’d only invited her out to lunch like normal, waited for her answer, then kissed her on the cheek. She almost _wanted_ him to react with disappointment or disapproval, to just _say something_ , so she could snarl back at him and get this weight off her chest. But he was just sitting there perusing the menu, looking _content_. She couldn’t stop bouncing her leg. 

The waiter came back with Crowley’s coffee and asked if they were ready, and Crowley ordered angel food cake. Aziraphale said, “I’ll have the chili, please. And a coffee.”

“Dark roast, the same as—?” The waiter stopped, looked at Crowley, and said, “Sorry, what are your pronouns?”

Crowley stared, wide-eyed, at Aziraphale, then at the waiter. She swallowed hard. Aziraphale would be expecting the answer “he and him,” but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to say that, so instead she sat there opening and closing her mouth like a fish. The moment stretched on much too long.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you—”

“Yes,” Aziraphale cut in. “I’ll have the same as — my companion. Thank you.”

“Sure, right away.”

When they were gone, Aziraphale reached out and put his hand on Crowley’s on the table. “My dear.”

Crowley looked at their joined hands, then at Aziraphale’s face. He was frowning, but he looked concerned, not angry. She looked back at their hands. She swallowed. “She.” It came out as a squeak and she cleared her throat. “It’s she and her. At the moment.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Crowley shifted her hand. It was sweating. “Because you want me just as I am.”

“ _Crowley_. I didn’t mean I _only_ want you as you are now. I meant I want you just as you are, _however_ you are, all the time.” Aziraphale put his free hand on the table and squeezed her hand between both of his. “I wanted you when you wore a doublet and padded breeches. I wanted you when you wore braids in your hair. I wanted you when you had a beard. I wanted you when we were at the Dowlings’ and you wore that long dress and curled your hair.”

“Really?”

“Of course I did. You were beautiful. You’re always beautiful.”

Crowley could feel herself blushing. She shook her head in disbelief. “But you said you were a pansy.”

That was the moment their waiter appeared and cleared their throat. “Your coffee.”

Aziraphale accepted it politely and waited for them to go away again. He wrapped his hands around the mug and said, “People assume I’m a gay man. I cultivate that reputation because it makes certain vulnerable people feel safe around me, which makes it easier for me to give them my protection. And it’s true that I appreciate the look of an attractive man, and that I don’t tend to go around seducing women, and those facts together do mean the word ‘pansy’ might apply to me, technically.” He sighed. He took a sip of his coffee. “But Crowley, none of that changes the fact that I would be proud to have you on my arm, however you look, or whatever you’re called. And to take you on dates, and to call you my partner…”

Crowley covered her face with her hands, sunglasses and all, and laughed. 

“Are you alright, my dear?”

She found she couldn’t stop giggling. “I’m such a bloody idiot.”

“Crowley…”

She could hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice. She peeked over her hands and grinned like a lovesick fool. “Shut up.”

Aziraphale merely raised his mug to his lips and sipped.

* * *

Back at the bookshop, Crowley followed Aziraphale into the back room and took off her sunglasses. “Is it alright if I—” She gestured at herself. “Change?”

“Of course, my dear. I want you to look however you want to look.”

Crowley snapped her fingers, and then she was wearing the black dress she’d seen in the tailor’s, with the slit up the side. Under that, soft black knickers. Another snap to change her genitals, and she instantly felt more at ease. She left everything else as it was — her face, her chest, the size of her hands. None of that was a problem. “Out of curiosity, why did _you_ want to change your body?” she asked.

“Oh, I didn’t. I simply wondered if the problem was that you didn’t find me attractive enough.”

“Angel, I couldn’t possibly want you more than I already do. I’m just barely keeping myself from humping your leg all the time as it is.”

Aziraphale smiled a pleased, blushing smile. He looked terribly smug. “Well, in that case.” He approached Crowley, walked her backwards until she could back up no further, and put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, boxing her in. He licked his lips. Crowley couldn’t look away. “Now that this is all sorted,” his gaze roamed down her body, then back to her face, “would it be quite alright if I spent some time between your legs?”

She found herself blindsided by a powerful wave of lust. The heat of it pulsed through her, and she swallowed hard. “Nn, guh, mm, I, I thought you said you wanted to suck my cock.”

Aziraphale frowned for a moment in thought, then said, “Ah. I believe what I said was that I wanted to pleasure you with my mouth. The essential elements are my mouth,” he kissed her jaw, “and your pleasure.”

She nodded frantically. “Yes. Yeah. Yes.”

Aziraphale descended to his knees, kissing his way down her torso as he went. She felt him slide the fabric of her skirt up her legs, and place a kiss between them, through her knickers. Her breath rushed out of her. 

“Would you hold this please, my dear?”

Aziraphale was looking up at her, with his hands full of the folds of her dress. She took the fabric, and watched him use both hands to slide her knickers down her thighs, just to her knees. He leaned forward and licked between her labia. “Unh!” The intensity of the feeling shocked her. She throbbed around his tongue. 

She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the wall, and with a miracle she made her knickers vanish. She spread her knees wider. The press of Aziraphale’s tongue vibrated with his moaning. 

“Put your fingers in, please, please…” He kept licking as he worked his fingers inside. He was breathing hard through his nose. She felt his knuckles against her entrance as his fingers thrust in and out. She tensed everywhere, and her thighs ached with the effort to stay upright. “Don’t stop, just a little more—”

A little suction between his lips, the wet pressure of his tongue, the friction of his fingers, it all built and built, and then she was coming, crying out, wracked with tension from her abdomen to her toes. Aziraphale kept licking her clit, and Crowley kept coming, three times, four, and everything was ecstasy and the joy of what her body could do.

Afterward, she stood there, gasping, completely spent, and her throat felt raw from the sounds she hadn’t realized she was making. She buzzed all over with residual pleasure. “Okay,” she said, and Aziraphale kissed her thigh, then sat back on his heels. Crowley straightened up, and dropped the fabric of her skirt to cover her again. Her fingers ached a little from how tightly she’d been gripping it.

She looked down at him. He was grinning like a fool, and the front of his shirt was wet. A delighted laugh burst out of her at the knowledge that she had done that. 

“How should I return the favour?” she asked.

Aziraphale blushed and lowered his eyes. “Oh, no. I’m actually— I’ve, er. I’m quite satisfied.”

“You already—?”

Aziraphale’s smile widened. “More than once, in fact.”

She collapsed inelegantly to the floor to kiss him, and they laughed together, relieved and happy.

* * *

Crowley shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited with Aziraphale on Tracy’s doorstep. It was to be the second of many monthly get-togethers, and this time she wasn’t dreading it. She was still getting used to high heels again, but at least her dress looked ravishing. “You _have_ told them all, haven’t you?”

“I told Tracy, and she promised to tell everyone else.”

“Don’t want to have to throttle anyone.”

Aziraphale took her hand. “If anyone gives you a hard time, I’ll throttle them myself.”

Crowley couldn’t stop herself from laughing out loud, just as Tracy opened the door and said, “There they are! So wonderful you could make it. Come inside, my loves, let me fix you a drink. Tea?”

Aziraphale smiled and stepped inside. “Yes, please.”

Crowley followed him in. “You haven’t got something stronger, have you? I’d love a glass of wine.”

“Oh, she’s a saucy one, isn’t she? One in the afternoon! Let me see what I can find. Just go on through to the sitting room.” Tracy shouted as she bustled through the house, “They’re here, sweetheart! Come and join the land of the living, will you?”

Crowley found herself alone in the sitting room with Aziraphale. She grinned widely and whispered, “What do you say we sneak upstairs at some point and find somewhere to fuck?”

Aziraphale appeared to be trying valiantly to suppress a grin of his own. “You fiend.” He pressed Crowley against the arm of the sofa and said against her lips, “You wicked temptress.” He kissed her briefly, backed away, then seemed to think better of it and returned to kiss her more thoroughly. 

All too soon, Tracy reappeared, and they broke apart in a hurry, a little embarrassed, and smiling secret smiles at each other.

“Here we are, loves, now we’ve got tea for Mr. Aziraphale, and a nice red wine for Miss Crowley. Or, sorry. Just Crowley, I forgot.”

Crowley looked at Aziraphale as she said, “No, it’s alright.” She allowed him to take her hand, raise it to his lips, and kiss it. “Miss Crowley is fine.”

And she was.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here is the Tumblr post](https://likearumchocolatesouffle.tumblr.com/post/190481413590/fine-likeasouffle-good-omens-tv-archive-of) for this fic. I really appreciate comments and reblogs! Thank you! :D


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